


The Meaning of Love

by LovetheOmni



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Baker!Simon, Basically Simon coming to terms with everything and figuring out the meaning of love, Baz and Simon are so in love and always holding hands it's disgusting, Bisexuality, Domestic, Family, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Simon finding out who his parents are, Simon loves food so much you guys, my attempt to heal Simon and write my own happy ending to the book, short smut scene in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-28 12:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovetheOmni/pseuds/LovetheOmni
Summary: Ever since his neglected childhood in foster care, Simon's never really understood the meaning of words like ‘want,’ ‘family,’ and ‘love.’ Set after the events of Carry On, Simon has a lot to figure out in the wake of the Mage's death, especially when he finally learns the truth about who his parents were. This is his journey to finally discovering his own feelings about The Mage, Baz, and most of all, himself.





	1. Inexpressible/Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep this fairly canon, and I wanted to wrap up all the things that I thought were still unaddressed in the book. I really wanted to explore Simon’s traumas and help to heal them. Also, that tweet that Rainbow Rowell wrote about how Simon and Baz aren’t happy really fueled my fire and made me NEED to MAKE them happy. I hope I accomplished this. This is basically my own little continuation of the book. Please let me know what you think!

Simon had never been very good at talking or putting his own feelings into words.

By the time he’d said his first word when he was a kid, everyone around him had already assumed that he was dumb and mute. All the other kids his age had already started talking, making sounds even if they were nonsense. Simon stayed quiet.

It wasn’t that he was dumb. He’d just spent his whole life tossed around different foster homes, and no one had ever taken the time to talk to him much. He wasn’t around long enough for people to get to know him or to finally get him to open up. Of _course_ he was having trouble learning. His life was confusing, completely void of a stable parental figure who loved him. It was understandable.

Eventually he caught on and finally began to speak. He learned non-abstract words like ‘ball’ and ‘dog,’ but even then, he struggled to articulate his emotions, to translate that feeling of _want_ into words.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried in those early days of being a kid. “More food pwease?” he remembered asking cheerfully one day after he’d licked his plate clean.

“No, there isn’t any fucking more! Be grateful for what you have, you little brat!”

He’d already forgotten that particular foster parent’s face, but he would never let himself forget their response. Simon hid his bruises for weeks after that. He never asked again.

Simon had always liked food. However, it was rare that he ever lived in a place that could offer him very much. Sometimes he would starve. He usually fell asleep to the sound of his own grumbling belly. But if he acted like he was ungrateful or unhappy with his current situation, there were often dire consequences, so he stayed quiet.

It wasn't always that bad, however.

Once he’d lived with a nice old lady who cooked him scones. They were nothing like the sour cherry scones he would come to covet at the Watford School of Magicks. She burned them, and she was too poor to afford anything fancy, but her heart was in it.

“You sure gobbled those down quickly!” she chortled. “Do you want me to make you any more? I have just enough to make another batch.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Simon murmured, remembering his manners.

“Nonsense!” the woman cried good-naturedly. “You’re part of the family now. I’ll whip you up some more!”

Simon didn’t understand what she meant by ‘family.’ A half a year after that, however, he was transferred to live somewhere else, so he never quite found out.

Everywhere he went, he was never in a position to ask for what he wanted. Sometimes he slipped up and wished for something (like the time he wanted to grow up to be a footballer, or even worse, the time he wished that his parents would somehow come back to find him). But then reality set in, and he realized that it was useless to think about it. Whenever something happened to him, it was always something that he had no control over. Dreaming, wishing, _wanting_ : it was all pointless.

He began to make lists in his head of things to push to the back of his mind. It was better than wanting something that he could never have.

It hurt too much.

\---

Watford had always felt like the place where he belonged, but after the Leaver’s Ball, Simon never stepped foot there again.

Baz moved into a dorm at the London School of Economics after he graduated, and was doing really well there (of course he was, the prat was flawless), but in comparison, Simon had no idea what he should be doing with his life or where he belonged. He was lost.

Even Penny seemed to have her life put together. She had dropped out of Watford just the same as Simon, but she was smart enough that it hadn’t affected her job prospects in the slightest.

Also, she still had magic on her side.

Simon was now about as Magickal as a Normal, albeit a Normal with dragon wings and a cartoonish devil tail. He mourned the loss of his magic. He couldn’t even go out in public without relying on someone else to spell his wings and tail invisible for him. He could never be a mage anymore, but he could never be a Normal either. He didn’t fit in anywhere.

He used to be the Chosen One, and now… he was just no one.

Despite his lack of purpose, life went on. He and Penny bought an apartment not far from where Baz went to school. He needed to pay rent _somehow_ , so he applied for a job at a shop nearby.

The owners of the shop were a couple of mages, Mr. and Mrs. Stainton, the parents of Philippa Stainton. They didn’t really approve of Simon dating Baz after he had been the one to steal away their daughter’s voice, but they were friends of the Bunces and agreed to take Simon in without a second thought. They were some of the few people left who still believed that Simon was a hero. They forgave him for a lot of his faults because of what he’d done in the past to save the Magickal World. They never mentioned that most of those things only happened because of him in the first place. He always made sure to quickly change the subject whenever they praised him.

Simon didn’t particularly enjoy the shop work either, but it gave him something to do and paid the bills. Besides, after everything that had happened, he was kind of glad for a life without adventure. No more fearing for his life every day. No more worrying about going off. He’d never considered what he would do after Watford. Honestly, he never thought he’d survive that long.

At one point while he had been dating Agatha, he’d let himself imagine a future with her. He’d imagined that he would just marry into the Wellbelove family and things would fall into place from there. He knew now that that had just been the easy way out, a way of escaping from actually having to decide what (or who) he really wanted.

No wonder it had taken him so long to realize that he was obsessed with Baz.

He never could have predicted that he’d end up with a boy, much less a vampire who used to be his enemy, but somehow that’s what happened, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe he liked girls too, he wasn’t sure, but he knew without a doubt that he liked Baz the _most_.

After all their fighting and hating each other, it had only taken a moment between them and a desperate kiss for Simon to finally realize how he felt. Just as always, it was so much better for him to just go with the flow. What was the point of trying to think about the future when it was impossible to predict? He didn’t want to think about the past or the future, so he threw himself into enjoying the present.

Even though he didn’t like working all that much, he did love that the store was right next to a bakery. He spent a lot of time looking into the window and drooling. He often spent his lunch break watching them as they added finishing touches to the cakes.

This was happiness, he thought as he ate: no thinking, no feeling, just _being_.

\---

“I love you, Simon,” Baz whispered, his voice wavering with an emotion that Simon didn’t recognize. “I love you _so_ _much_.”

Simon’s eyes widened.

It had been about half a year since they had officially become boyfriends, but neither one of them had said those words aloud to each other before. Baz had been practically in love with Simon ever since puberty hit, and on some level Simon understood that by now, but he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. His mouth hung open dumbly.

When he didn’t say anything back, Baz averted his eyes and cleared his throat awkwardly, his features twisting into a scowl.

Simon took Baz’s hand in his gently, a silent apology, a silent answer.

Baz looked up at him, reassured by his touch. They were always holding hands. They did it more than talking. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Simon looked a bit sheepish. “You know me, Baz. I… I’m not sure _what_ I’m feeling most of the time.” He hated his own excuses, even if they were true. “But I _do_ know that I’m so happy to be with you. That’s the _one_ thing that I’m absolutely sure of.”

“You’re happy,” Baz confirmed, keeping his voice neutral, “but you don’t know if you love me back.”

Simon heard a small spark of anger in his voice, which Simon knew by now meant he was actually just disappointed and feeling defensive. He squeezed Baz’s hand, terrified that this was going to mess things up between them. He wanted to say it back so badly. There was no one else he could ever imagine saying it to.

But he knew Baz, and he knew that Baz wouldn’t want to hear it unless it was the truth.

The only experience he’d ever had with saying ‘I love you’ was with Agatha, but neither of them had actually understood what they were saying back then. They had both just been going through the motions, trying to keep each other by doing what they thought they needed to do.  In the end, relying on a love that just wasn’t there was what ruined them. He didn’t want that to happen between him and Baz. He wanted to be _sure_.

“It’s just…” Simon said, trying his best to explain truthfully, “I don’t even know what that word means. I’ve never really… No one’s ever really…”

Baz nodded silently in understanding. He should’ve realized that Simon would need time. No one had ever really cared for Simon like this, not even family. He’d always been on his own.

The side of Baz’s mouth twitched up in an attempted smile, and he leaned over to kiss Simon on the cheek, pressing his lips against as many of Simon’s moles as he could find. “Take your time, then,” he said softly between kisses. “I’m not going anywhere.”  


	2. Loss/Rejection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post chapter 2 a bit early since I have no patience and it's actually a really important chapter.  
> Also, random (but important) sex in this chapter. My bad. xD
> 
> As always, please leave comments~ It inspires me to write more. ;D

**Chapter 2: Loss/Rejection**

Simon could practically feel the tension in the air.

Both Penny and Agatha stared at him awkwardly.

Whatever it was that they needed to talk to him about, it must have been serious. With the eight-hour time difference between England and California, Agatha didn’t take the time to Skype them very much, and usually, she only talked to Penny. This time, Penny had insisted that Simon needed to be there too.

Agatha fidgeted uncomfortably on the computer screen, looking at Penny to start the conversation.

“Simon,” Penny said carefully and solemnly. “Agatha and I have been doing some research, and we found something that… you need to know about.”

“Uh… okay,” Simon mumbled. He already suspected that whatever it was, whether or not he _needed_ to know, he probably didn’t _want_ to know.

“It’s about a woman named Lucy Salisbury,” Agatha began. “She’s the one who inspired me to run away to California, the woman I named my dog after. Everyone said that that’s where she’d gone, away from the World of Mages. But… I dug a little further, and it turns out… Simon, she’s dead.”

There were tears in her eyes. Simon was confused.

“Who was she?” Simon asked.

Agatha looked to Penny for help again, unable to get the words out. Penny sighed.

“She was your mother, Simon.”

“…oh,” Simon replied quietly.

He’d always figured that his mother must have been dead. It’s not like this was a complete shock to him. Actually, what struck him the most in that moment was that his mother _had_ apparently been a Mage after all.

This whole time he’d been dealing with the loss of his magic by telling himself that none of it had been meant to be his in the first place, that he really was just a random, abandoned Normal child. But if his mother had been a Mage…

“There’s more,” Agatha said softly. “I didn’t think we should tell you but-”

“You have a right to know,” Penny said firmly, cutting Agatha off.

Agatha sighed. Penny handed Simon a picture that Agatha had sent them in the mail, the picture Agatha had kept on the mirror of her bedroom door all this time.

 “Lucy was your mother, but your father...”

As soon as Simon saw the man in the picture, he dropped it as if it burned him.

“Your father was the Mage.”

\---

Simon stopped thinking and held onto Baz tightly.

“You’re such a _good_ boy for me, Snow,” Baz purred softly into his ear, leaning over him to press small kisses down his jawline. “ _So_ good.”

Simon moaned and basked in everything that Baz was doing to him, the tight heat around his dick effectively short-circuiting all of his thoughts as Baz rode him slowly. His wings shook uncontrollably with pleasure, pushing against the bed. His hips jerked, driving up further into Baz.

Baz groaned, sitting up again and leaning back. “Love your cock,” he whined, voice catching as he slid himself back down. “You’re so fit. So good _beneath_ me like this.”

Simon flushed, intoxicated by Baz’s words. He didn’t say anything back, but Baz didn’t expect him to. To be honest, Simon usually _hated_ being complimented. He never knew how to respond to it, and he usually didn’t believe the words anyway.

But sex was different. He didn’t have to respond with words. He didn’t have the brainpower to analyze or deny it. It was all about _touch_ and the blissful absence of thought.

Normally, Baz wasn’t the type to get sentimental or mushy either. If they had something they needed to say to each other, it was usually done through handholding or meaningful stares. If that didn’t work, they usually resorted to shouting and shoving. They never _had_ gotten over their bad habit of fighting.

But Baz had spent so many years feeling like he was going to burst with how much he loved Simon. In the heat of the moment, it felt good to finally be able to let it all out, to say everything he’d ever kept locked inside. Especially when Simon got so _turned on_ by it.

Whenever he was the one who topped or the one in control, he liked holding Simon down, being rough with him, and forcing him to understand just how wonderful he was. He loved giving Simon everything that he deserved.

“ _Simon_ ,” he grunted as Simon hit a sensitive spot inside of him, finally saying his boyfriend’s first name. “ _My_ Simon.” He leaned down once again and pressed his lips to one of the moles on Simon’s cheek, taking some of the weight off of his legs. “ _Crowley_ , you’re loved, Simon.” Baz whispered against him. “You’re _so_ loved.”

Simon reached up to brush Baz’s hair out of his eyes. It was starting to get too long again and always seemed to be getting in the way. When they could both properly see each other again, they both smiled. Baz leaned into Simon’s touch.

Noticing that Baz’s legs were getting tired, Simon grabbed Baz’s hips and took back a bit of control, giving Baz some time to rest and just _take_ it. He thrusted up into him and kissed him fiercely, expressing all of his own love and adoration for Baz without words.

He set a brutal pace, slamming into him harder and harder.

It was getting to be too much.

“ _Baz_ ,” Simon cried out shakily in warning. “I’m gonna-”

And then everything reached its peak for both of them. Simon gripped Baz even tighter as his whole body tensed. Baz’s eyes squeezed shut as he was overwhelmed, twitching with orgasm.

Time froze.

And then, after one short, sweet second, they both finally slumped over, satiated and exhausted.

A minute passed as they both caught their breath. Baz gently pulled himself off, and Simon threw away the condom. He chuckled fondly as Baz reached for the tissues to clean himself off in an uncharacteristically uncoordinated manner, still too high on endorphins to function.

When Baz was finished, Simon rolled over to lay his head on his chest. He sighed and ran his fingers over Baz’s arm lightly, lost in thought.

Baz was everything to him. He made him feel happy. Wasn’t that what love was: being happy with someone? Why didn’t that feel like the right answer? Why couldn’t he just say it back?

When Baz could finally form sentences again, he looked over at Simon and grinned. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was all that about so suddenly?” He had barely gotten through the door before Simon had pounced on him.

Simon shrugged. He shoved what Penny and Agatha had told him into the back of his mind. “Nothing.”

\---

"... the Mage was my father."

"What? Oh my god. I'm so sorry, Simon..."

Simon stared down at his hands, not looking at the computer screen. "Agatha and Penny figured it out... I haven't told Baz yet," he said.

"Why not?" his therapist asked.

"Talking about it makes it real."

"You're talking about it to me," she pointed out gently. Simon sighed.

"Baz is different," he whispered.

"How so?"

"I can stop talking to you anytime I want. I can act like it never happened. But Baz and I sleep in each other's arms practically every other night. He's gonna ask me how I feel. He's gonna keep asking. Whatever he tells me, he’s gonna be right, just like he always is, and we’re gonna end up fighting about it."

"How _do_ you feel, Simon? Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know how you feel or you don't know if you're okay?"

Simon paused, thinking about it. Finally, he shrugged, sighing exasperatedly. "I don't know."

"Remember what I've told you in our previous sessions. It's okay to let yourself think about things. It's okay to take those lists you've made and tear them to pieces. It's okay to let yourself _feel_ , Simon."

"Not about this," Simon muttered. This wasn’t some trivial thing for his therapist to help him figure out, like whether or not he was gay or bi. His vision blurred and a stray tear rolled down his cheeks. He wiped it away.

“Can you tell me why?”

He shrugged.

“What’s different about this compared to the other things on your list?”

Simon sighed. “… Penny and Agatha told me that the Mage was the reason why my magic was so out of control in the first place. He _made_ me that way on purpose with some kind of weird ritual.”

He paused, but his therapist stayed quiet, allowing him to speak as if she wasn’t even there.

“He’s also the reason why I never stayed in a single place for very long. They found evidence that he was the one who kept transferring me.”

He didn’t look at the computer screen, but he knew that she was still listening.

“Whatever that ritual was that he did to make me…. it’s the reason my mother is dead.”

Finally, his therapist spoke up. "I'm so sorry, Simon,” she said gently. “Sometimes parents do horrible things, and it ends up hurting the ones they love. It’s important to remember that none of that is _your_ fault."

There were so many feelings inside of Simon, that they all felt clogged up.

He understood that the death of his mother was not his fault.

But he also understood that the death of his father _was_.

His therapist sighed at his silence. "Talk to Baz, Simon,” she urged him. “Or talk to Penny or Agatha. I'm worried about you keeping all of these feelings inside of you and dealing with it alone. Saying things aloud will help you realize what’s going on inside."

"The Mage is gone now. Why can't I just move on and forget about it?"

“That’s not how grief works, Simon. You can’t just ignore it and expect it to go away.”

“Grief?” Simon’s brow furrowed in confusion. That wasn’t something he had even considered.

“Yes,” his therapist said gently. “It’s okay to feel sad when we lose someone close to us. It’s called grief.”

Sad? Grief? Simon didn’t understand what she was saying at all. The Mage had been evil. He’d done horrible things to him, to the Magickal World as a whole.

Simon wiped away a few stray tears. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying.

\---

After Baz let himself into Penny and Simon’s apartment, the first thing he noticed was that none of the lights were on. That was odd. He and Simon were supposed to hang out after Baz finished with his class.

He flipped the switch and saw Simon huddled on the couch with his wings wrapped around him, blocking out the rest of the world. Baz could tell that something was extremely wrong.

He saw Simon's computer open on the table, and he remembered that today was the day that he usually talked to his therapist.

"Hey," he whispered, gently putting his hand on one of Simon's wings. His brow furrowed with concern when they only pulled in closer to his body in response. "What's wrong, love?"

Simon let out a shaky exhale before both of his wings finally fell back to reveal the sorrowful expression underneath. Baz kissed his cheek, tasting tears.

Simon wrapped his arms around Baz, holding him tightly. His therapist’s voice rang in his head: _Tell Baz, Simon._

"... I know who my father is,” he said quietly.

Baz frowned in confusion. "I... wow. Is he alive?" Simon winced at the question.

"He was the Mage."

Baz couldn't breathe for one second. "You... you can't be serious.” When Simon didn’t deny it, Baz buried his face in Simon’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, knowing there was nothing he could say. “I’m here for you if you need me. I’m here.”

Simon’s eyes fogged up again, brimming over, but he felt relieved. He should’ve known that telling Baz was exactly what he needed to do.

\---

Simon stared at the file sitting on his desk. Penny had given it to him on the day that she told him about his parents. He had yet to open it.

There were so many things contained inside that file that he was sure that he didn’t want to know. He just wanted to forget the Mage and move on with his life. What was the point in thinking about a family that was long gone? He’d learned a long time ago that it was better to just accept that they were gone, and now that he knew who they were, it made no difference.

But then he remembered how it felt to see his mother’s face for the first time, to actually _know_ who she had been.

He wished that he could know more about her.

With a deep sigh and a pounding heartbeat, he flipped open the folder and scoured its contents.

The first thing he saw was a photo stuffed into the pocket, faces similar to his own staring back at him. He recognized his mother even though she looked significantly younger than the previous photo he’d seen of her. In the picture, she had her arms wrapped around a boy close to her age with the same blonde hair. Simon liked her smile. There was an older woman behind them, beaming good-naturedly. The three of them seemed to be having a fun day at the park together.

He flipped the photo over and saw Penny’s handwriting printed clearly on the back. ‘Lady Ruth Salisbury with her children Lucy and Luke,’ it read. His grandmother, mother, and uncle, he realized.

He kept flipping through the file, smiling faintly, but also feeling far away and disconnected from the people he read about. They didn’t seem real. They didn’t feel like people he should know.

At the back of the file, he found a piece of paper covered in names and addresses, even phone numbers. Lucy may have been dead, but others in her family lived on.

They lived on but still had no idea what had happened to Lucy. They had no idea that she had ever had a son.

Oh, god. Surely by now they already knew about Simon Snow, the fallen Chosen One. What would the Salisburys say if they knew they were related to him? What would they say if they knew he was also related to the Mage?

Would they reject him?

He thought of the Mage and closed the file. Just because they were his blood, that didn’t mean anything.

It was better not to want anything more than that.


	3. Denial/Ignorance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of family and gossip in this chapter. I re-read the parts with Baz's family in the original book several times, so hopefully I portrayed them well. haha  
> Please let me know what you think~ :D

Baz was sick and tired of his father treating Simon like shit.

No matter how many times Baz brought Simon round, his father was unfailingly awkward about it. The first time Baz told his parents that he was dating the former Chosen One, his father nearly disowned him.

Malcom Grimm had never been very understanding about his son being queer or being a vampire (neither of which he had any control over, by the way). However, now that he actually _had_ a boyfriend for him to offend with his comments, Baz figured it was time for him to get over it already.

Besides, it was almost Christmas.

“Are you sure it was wise to bring _him_?” his father asked as if Simon couldn’t hear what was being said directly in front of him if he spoke in a low voice. “The entire coven will be here tonight.”

“Relax, father,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes. “everyone already knows.” After the Leaver’s Ball, pretty much everyone in the Magickal World had heard all about the two boys kissing in the middle of the dance floor.

“Just because people _know_ of your indecency, doesn’t mean you should flaunt-”

“Relax, Malcolm,” Fiona said with a grin, shoving past her brother-in-law to throw her arms around her beloved nephew. “It’s not like they’re gonna have sex in the drawing room in front of everyone or anything.” She turned to Simon. “How’s tricks, Simon?”

Simon shrugged in response, smiling back.

Malcolm’s mouth hung open in absolute shock, frozen in his anger from the obscenity of Fiona’s words, but he could say nothing as Fiona led both boys into his own home and toward the party.

After the death of the Mage had left the Magickal World with the lack of a formal leader, the coven had begun to hold more events and meetings in order to take care of things in a more democratic and social manner. The Grimms volunteered to host the first coven-wide Christmas party. Baz didn’t really feel like attending, but he _was_ a Grimm-Pitch, so not showing up for Christmas would’ve been a little awkward.

Baz’s step-mother, Daphne, and his oldest half-sibling, Mordelia, nodded and waved pleasantly at Simon when they saw him. At least _some_ people were getting used to him.

They spent most of the night saying their obligatory hellos, ignoring the stares. “Did _you_ know that the Mage’s Heir is dating the Grimm-Pitch boy?” Some of the guests would whisper. “Natasha would be turning over in her grave if she knew that her son was a poof.”

Baz wasn’t about to let any of that get him down. He’d heard it all before. Instead, he was already planning to duck out to his old room a bit early so that he and Simon could have some privacy.

After all, it had been exactly a year since they’d had their first kiss.

It wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but since it was technically an anniversary of theirs, Baz was excited to give Simon a gift once they were alone. He’d made him a cookbook full of recipes from Cook Pritchard herself, including one for sour cherry scones. He was dying to see Simon’s reaction.

Just as he turned toward Simon to suggest for them to sneak away, he realized that Simon’s entire body was tense, his knuckles practically turning white from his firm grip around his glass of eggnog. Baz frowned. “What’s wrong...?” he asked.

But then he heard it.

“The anniversary of his death is coming up soon, you know. He’s almost been gone for a whole year.”

“I _still_ can’t believe we’re rid of that fool for good.”

“The holes in the magickal atmosphere are starting to return to normal faster and faster these days. Things are going back to their rightful place.”

“ _We’re_ back to our rightful place.”

“I’ll never understand how we elected _Davy_ of all people to become the Mage in the first place. I mean, the man was an absolute knob.”

“Well he got what was coming to him. Killed in cold blood, by his own heir no less. How fittingly tragic.”

“That boy did us all a favor.” Several people laughed haughtily. “And to think he’s here at this very party: the Mage’s murderer.”

Simon looked down at his glass. They were right. He was a murderer… The Mage had been killed by his own heir… his own son…

Baz reached over to grab his hand, but before he could, he was interrupted by his step-mother’s shrieking voice.

“Please refrain from being such a _gossip_ , Gladys,” Daphne hissed to the woman who clearly seemed to be leading the conversation. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t _insult_ my other guests!” She stomped out of the room, grabbing the two boys and steering them through the doors with her as she went, muttering under her breath that this is why she hated hosting parties.

“Are you okay?” she asked Simon once they were out of sight.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Simon muttered.

“Of _course_ I did,” she said at the exact same time that Baz said “of _course_ she did.”

Daphne chuckled humorlessly. “That woman and her friends were getting on my _last_ nerve. Besides, you’re practically family by now, Simon, especially if you and Basilton ever get married. It was the least I could do!”

“ _Mother_!” Baz grumbled. She smirked at his reaction.

Simon was speechless. Married? Part of the family? It had never really been something he and Baz had ever discussed before.

Could he really become a Grimm-Pitch? Could he really fit in?

As Baz’s father came into the room and demanded for an explanation to the ruckus they’d caused, he couldn’t imagine it.

\---

“Okay, yeah. Then I’ll just order what you recommend,” Simon finally decided, flashing an awkward smile at the waitress. The blonde girl smiled back at him, flipping her hair and batting her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” she purred, her voice dripping with honey. “Will that be all for the both of you?”

Baz glowered at her. “ _Yes_ ,” he grumbled brusquely. “Now just hurry up and do your job.” She jumped in surprise at the venom in his voice but didn’t argue and scurried away quickly.

Simon looked back and forth between Baz and where the girl had gone, completely blindsided by what had just occurred. “What was _that_ about?” he asked. “Why are you being so rude all of a sudden?”

Baz rolled his eyes. “Even now, you’re completely thick.”

Simon was even more confused. “What? What happened?”

“You. Flirting with the waitress. On _our_ date.” Baz was practically livid.

“I-I didn’t!” Simon protested. “She was just being nice!”

“She thought you were cute, and you went along with it.” Baz sulked. “And she’s just your type too, isn’t she? She could be a Wellbelove for how much of a resemblance she has to your ex.”

Simon suddenly felt a little guilty. To be honest, the waitress _did_ attract him in the same way that Agatha had. Maybe he _had_ been a little too entranced with her. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I-I didn’t even think… I thought maybe I didn’t like…”

“You thought that because you like _me_ that means you don’t like girls at all,” Baz finished for him knowingly, his face remaining cold and impassive.

Simon nodded, looking away.

After a moment of silence, he looked up from his hands and back at Baz. “I guess… maybe I _am_ bisexual then.”

“Well, yeah,” Baz agreed, smirking a little. “You always _were_ the last to know.”

Simon smiled back and reached for Baz’s hand. “But that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

“Of course not. You’ve always been bi. I get that.”

Simon stood up and slid himself over to Baz’s side of the booth they were sitting in. He held Baz’s hand firmly and pressed a short kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s not like I haven’t ever seen you notice other boys,” he pointed out teasingly. 

It was Baz’s turn to look a little guilty. “Fine,” he admitted, huffing in defeat, “but if you cheat on me, I swear I’ll tear your throat out with my fangs.” Simon knew it was an empty threat. Baz would never dream of biting a human.

“Agreed.”

When the waitress came back to their table with food in hand, they were both still sitting on the same side of the booth, laughing and holding hands. Simon barely noticed her. He only had eyes for one person.

\---

Simon cleaned silently in the back of the store, crouched down low where no one could see him and wiping away all of the hidden cobwebs and dust behind the display shelves. It had been almost a half hour since a group of loudly gossiping older women entered the shop. He tried desperately to just focus on his work and ignore them.

It wasn’t working.

“I mean, did you ever see him with a woman before? He was always creepily alone.”

“Of course! Surely you remember him dating Lucy Salisbury during his Watford days.”

“Oh, wow. Lucy Salisbury. I haven’t heard that name in years. What ever happened to her? She just dropped right off the face of the planet, didn’t she? Did he… you don’t think he killed her, do you?”

Simon flinched at the mention of his mother’s name, his hands shaking as they spoke so casually about her disappearance.

“Honestly, Sharon, don’t be so morbid.”

“I heard she ran away to California with a man. Or maybe it was to Hawaii. Some posh place in America.”

“A man?  While she was still with Davy?”

“Maybe it was after she was with him. Maybe she came to her senses and found someone who wasn’t insane.”

“I heard that Lady Salisbury spoke of an illegitimate child once.”

Simon stopped moving altogether.

“ _What_? A child?”

“Oh, _yes_. I mean, I wasn’t there personally when she said it, but it was a huge scandal. She was in tears and broke down right in the middle of a charity tournament for stutterers. So _tragic_.”

“Well _I_ heard it was a Normal who got Lucy pregnant, and she ran away to be with him. She even left her wand behind. It sounded incredibly romantic.”

“Leaving your wand behind sounds _romantic_ to you? What an embarrassment.”

“That’s why Lady Salisbury never speaks of her children anymore. A boy with no magic, and a girl who ran away from it. It’s a shame. And now that her husband is gone, she’s practically all alone.”

Simon continued scrubbing. Up, down. Up, down. He wasn’t listening.

“What if Lucy ran away because the baby was the Mage’s?” he heard someone say quietly.

Finally, it was too much.

Simon stood up, causing the entire group of ladies to jump in surprise when they spotted him, whispering amongst themselves.

He ignored them and walked into the staff room. “Can I take my break now?” he asked Mrs. Stainton quietly.

Mrs. Stainton glanced past him and toward the women who were all suddenly deathly quiet, straining their ears to hear. “Of course you can, sweetie,” she said sympathetically. Then, she shut the door a little and added quietly, “I’m sorry you had to hear all that. Should I ask them to leave?”

Simon shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “People talk. It happens.”

“It’s just… I just wanted to say that I wouldn’t blame you if you needed time off to grieve. I know that he was like a father figure to you.”

Simon frowned. Mrs. Stainton meant well, but he hated that everyone seemed to have an opinion on how he should be feeling.

“I don’t need time off,” he insisted.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry,” Mrs. Stainton said, looking flustered. “He may have had his flaws, and he was certainly quirky, but in his own way, I think the Mage was a visionary. I don’t think he did most of the things they say he did on purpose.”

“I didn’t really know that much about him,” Simon admitted, a bit caught off guard. Not very many people thought well of the Mage those days.

Mrs. Stainton looked a bit surprised. “I thought you were his heir. Weren’t you close?”

“I wasn’t just his heir,” Simon whispered with a shaky voice. It was still strange to say it aloud. “He _was_ my father, my _real_ father who abandoned me as a kid. So… honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know who he was, and I kind of wish people would just stop talking about him.”

There were small gasps outside the door, but Simon didn’t hear them.

\---

The rumor that Simon was the Mage’s son spread like wildfire, but no one had the guts to talk about it directly to Simon’s face. At least these rumors seemed to make people a bit more conscious of his feelings, but he still didn’t know which was worse: being seen as the Mage’s murderer or the Mage’s poor, abandoned son.

It didn’t take long for people to begin speculating about who his mother was either. It only took simple math to deduce the answer. After all, the only woman in Davy’s life had been none other than Lucy Salisbury, a woman rumored to have disappeared while pregnant.

Under these new circumstances, Simon begrudgingly took Mrs. Stainton up on her offer and took a week off of work. He used his time to hang around the bakery nearby.

The owner of the bakery was a Normal who already recognized him as their best customer, and she showed him nothing but support when he mentioned his own recent attempts to use the recipes in the cookbook his boyfriend made him.

When she offered to teach him how to make some things, he jumped at the chance.

“Make sure not to stir it too much or too quickly,” she reminded him with a grin. “I’m gonna go check on the oven.”

Simon loved helping around the bakery even more than he thought he would. On the random days that he went, everyone around him noticed that he seemed a lot happier. He always came back home to Penny or Baz with a big smile and traces of flour stuck all over him.

The bell to the store dinged, signaling the arrival of a customer. Simon poked his head out of the kitchen to greet them.

“Welcome!” he called cheerfully, walking out from behind the counter to see if they needed any assistance. “Please feel free to look around, and-”

As soon as he registered the face of the woman standing in front of him, he couldn’t say another word. She stared back at him silently for a long moment, her eyes filled with emotion.

Lady Salisbury.

“Is it true?” she asked without preamble, her aged face set in a deep frown. “Are you Lucy’s son?”

Simon’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. There was no way that she would accept him.

“I… I only just found out about it myself, but… yes. Yes, I am.”

Almost before he had finished speaking, she swooped him into a warm bear hug.

“Do you like cake?” she asked, voice shaking. “Of course you do. I’m gonna buy you a cake.”


	4. Anger/Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is finally: the anger chapter! Simon is slowly figuring things out as it all bubbles to the surface. After this, maybe he can finally relax a little.
> 
> I hope I got everyone in character! As always, please leave a comment! I live for them! Thank you!

Baz had only just entered the apartment, kicked off his shoes, and taken off his coat when he heard loud smashing and thumping sounds emanating from Simon’s room. Apparently, Simon wasn’t in a good mood.

That day was supposed to have been Simon’s first time at Lady Salisbury’s house. On the day that she’d just shown up at the bakery, she’d insisted that Simon should come visit her when he wasn’t busy with work so that she could get to know him properly.

Obviously, that hadn’t gone so well.

Baz was busy debating whether or not he should go into Simon’s room to check up on him, or if he should leave and give Simon some space, when suddenly he heard Simon’s bedroom door slam and pounding footsteps headed toward the living room.

Simon stopped abruptly when he saw Baz standing near the door. “ _Oh_ ,” he said, his voice oozing rage. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

Baz’s eyebrows shot up. “Hello to _you_ too, my love,” he replied sarcastically.

Simon acted like he hadn’t heard anything and shuffled over to the kitchen to throw a dirty plate into the sink, sulking the whole way. “It wouldn’t _hurt_ you to tell me before you come over,” he grumbled under his breath.

Baz was completely taken aback. Simon had never complained during any of the times that he’d let himself in before. “You’re the one who gave me a key,” he said back defensively, like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard Simon say.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

The ice in Simon’s voice stung. Baz knew Simon didn’t really mean it (he was obviously just acting out his anger over something else), but it was beginning to piss him off. “Forgive me for actually _wanting_ to be here for you,” he hissed.

“I don’t _need_ you here _all_ the time!” Simon retaliated.

Baz did his best to be an understanding and patient boyfriend, but let’s face it: he’d never really been known for being nice. He snapped.

“ _Obviously_!” he roared back. “Cause I can _tell_ that you’re taking whatever happened today so _fucking_ well!”

He reached toward Simon to grab him like he usually did while they were fighting, before it turned into angry kissing or sex. He wanted to touch Simon, to hurt him and comfort him all at the same time without words.

Instead, Simon dodged out of his grasp. “Shut up!” he cried. “Just leave me alone.”

What the hell had that bitch said to him?

“Tell me what happened,” Baz ordered. “We’ll go talk to her. Or _I’ll_ go talk to her. We’ll figure out _something_. She obviously just doesn’t have a clue how lucky she is to have Simon Snow in her family.”

“Fine,” Simon grumbled. He shuffled toward Baz, and at first Baz thought he was finally going to calm down. “If you won’t leave, I will,” he said instead, pushing past him and aiming for the door. His wings twitched up like they wanted to take flight.

“Wait, Simon, no,” Baz warned him hurriedly, “your _wings_!”

Simon froze.

He’d forgotten that his wings were visible. He couldn’t leave without the risk of Normals seeing him. He couldn’t even walk out the door of his own apartment without turning back to ask Baz for help.

It was _humiliating_.

Simon looked like he was going to cry. He had never missed his magic as much as he did in that moment. It wasn’t even that he was very good at magic or that he liked using it (most of what he had before hadn’t even belonged to him in the first place). He just missed the freedom he used to have. Now he felt so defenseless, not able to call up his sword on a whim like he used to, and not even able to go _outside_ without the help of someone else.

He had gotten used to his wings and tail, but they also felt like a ball and chain.

Baz let out a noise of frustration, but after seeing the look on Simon’s face, he managed to reel back his anger. “Why are you being such an _asshole_?” he asked more calmly, trying in his own twisted way to get Simon’s attention back on their argument and away from whatever shame he must be feeling.

He sighed when Simon didn’t respond. “It doesn’t matter what happened,” he insisted. “I’m gonna be here for you whether you want me to or not, because I _love_ you.”

“Why?”

Baz’s eyes widened, darkening and shining with sudden vulnerability.

Realizing how Baz had misinterpreted what he’d said, Simon finally pulled his hand away from the doorknob and grabbed Baz instead. He shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not- I… I mean… I really want to know. _Why_ do you love me? I haven’t even said it back. I’m a terrible boyfriend, just like I warned you I’d be. You should be tired of me by now.”

Baz reached out to touch Simon’s face. “You’re not completely terrible,” he murmured. “I must be a masochist, because in fact, I’m still quite fond of you.”

Simon chuckled softly. “Tosser. That didn’t really answer my question.”

Baz shrugged. “I dunno,” he admitted. “I’ve tried not to, but there are _so_ many reasons why I do.”

They both stood in silence, Simon’s hand on Baz’s arm and Baz’s thumb rubbing lazily against Simon’s cheek.

“That’s what she was upset at me about,” Simon finally admitted bitterly. “Us. Or at least that’s _one_ of the many things. I’m _quite_ the family embarrassment, apparently.”

Baz sneered. “A homophobe. _Of_ course.”

“I mean, mostly she kept talking about having grandchildren someday and insisting that I find a girl ‘ _for the continuation of the Salisbury line_ ;’ especially when she heard I was bi.” Simon shrugged. “I basically told her to stuff it though,” he murmured. “You mean too much to me.”

Baz smiled, enjoying the mental image of Simon telling off a homophobic old lady in his defense a little too much. “That’s why I love you.”

\---

The anniversary of the Mage’s death came and went without much of a reaction from Simon. On the surface, he hadn’t seemed different from any other day.

Penny avoided mentioning it directly. She’d been avoiding talking to him about a lot lately. She hadn’t even told him yet that she was considering moving to America to be with her boyfriend, Micah. Nothing was set in stone yet anyway.

She knew that telling him about it would only upset him. She still wished that she could save him from all of the bad things in the world, and even after his powers were gone, she was still treating him like a bomb about to go off. All she knew was that Baz had hinted to her somberly once that Simon wasn’t taking things as well as it seemed.

“How are things with Lady Salisbury?” she asked him on the night of the anniversary, approaching the subject of his family carefully.

Simon looked up from his cell phone and shrugged. “She’s alright. We’ve only met a couple times, but she always acts like she needs to feed me. Kind of how I always thought a grandmother might be like: always with a purse filled with sweeties.”

Penny chuckled. “Obsessed with food. She _must_ be related to you.”

Simon grinned.

“Is she alright with the…?” she trailed off, hoping that Simon would fill in the blank for her.

Simon’s smile fell. “She was a little freaked out when I showed her my wings and tail, and I could tell that she wasn’t happy that I didn’t have magic anymore… but she almost had a _stroke_ when I told her that the rumors about me and Baz were true.”

“Sorry, Simon,” she said, wincing. Apparently approaching the subject of family _at all_ was a bad idea.

“It’s alright,” Simon assured her. “Now I think she’s finally given up on trying to get me to leave Baz and has moved on to passively-aggressively suggesting possible surrogates.”

“You and Baz want to have kids?” Penny asked curiously.

Simon shrugged. “We haven’t really talked about it. But I barely have my _own_ life figured out. I can’t even imagine taking care of someone else right now.”

 “Do you think you’ll see her again soon?” Penny wondered.

Simon shrugged again. “I doubt it. But it’s fine. I never thought she’d ever want to meet me at all.”

“Because of… the other side of your family?” Penny asked, trying to sound casual.

“Because of everything, really. I mean, I don’t exactly have the best reputation.” Simon spoke as if he was just stating facts, but he kept his eyes locked on his cell phone and didn’t look Penny in the eyes as he spoke.

Penny sighed. “Mrs. Stainton told my mother about how they’ve been treating you at the shop… and Baz told me you’ve been having nightmares. And with it being the anniversary of the Mage’s death today and all… I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

“Honestly, Penny. I’m fine,” Simon insisted.

Penny didn’t push for more. She just sighed and said “I just want you to know that it’s okay to feel sad that he’s gone. It’s okay to feel mad. Whatever you’re feeling… it’s okay.”

\---

Simon _was_ okay. A whole week passed, and everyone around him moved on to talking about different things. It was over. He didn’t have to keep thinking about it.

Even after he’d overheard Penny and Micah discussing moving in together over Skype, he was fine. He’d always known that it was just a matter of time until she’d leave. She and Micah belonged together. It was okay. He could handle it.

As he trailed after Baz in the supermarket, tagging along with him while he did some New Year shopping, Simon was already mentally going over what he would need to buy to replace the things that Penny would take when she left. After a whole life of getting passed around from place to place, he didn’t own very much.

Simon was fine. He could handle this. It was just another part of life. People leave. He was fine.

He glanced over at Baz and wondered if it would be too needy to ask him if _they_ could get a place together…

They both turned and walked into an aisle full of little trinkets and ceramics. Baz had accidentally dropped a saltshaker and was looking for something simple to replace it. He went up and down the aisle, scanning everything carefully. Simon barely paid attention, and he was kind of bored, but then something caught his eye: a little ceramic goat.

Oh.

Ebb.

Then all at once, suddenly he wasn’t okay.

He missed Ebb a lot, he realized. Unlike him, she’d always worn her melancholy right on her sleeve. Since he came to Watford, she’d always been there for him, helping him take his mind off of things and letting him help with the goats. Her sadness had always been so overwhelming that he could ignore his own. Even so, he hadn’t even really known that much about her until the end.

But then the Mage had killed her and it was too late.

It wasn’t fair. Everyone was either leaving or they’d been taken from him, or he’d never even had them in the first place. Ebb, Penny, the Mage, his mother, and even Agatha.

“I can’t stand this,” he whispered, grimacing at the ceramic goat.

“What was that?” Baz asked, tearing his eyes away from the two salt shakers he’d been comparing.

"I just... I can't believe he never told me,” Simon said softly.

“ _Who_ never told you _what_?” Baz asked, completely lost on what Simon was even talking about.

“The Mage. He never even _tried_ to be a proper father. He never mentioned it, not once. He just… abandoned me, tried to turn me into a soldier. Or worse, a weapon."

Baz’s eyes widened in alarm, but Simon didn’t stop talking.

“But I’m not a solider. I’m not even the Chosen One. I was just a kid. And he was my father. He _should’ve been_ my father.”

He couldn’t settle down. Ever since the Grimm-Pitch Christmas party, he just couldn’t settle down. It wasn’t true that he’d been fine about it this whole time. Everything that he’d heard people say about the Mage, and everything they were saying about what he was _supposed_ to be feeling, it all just kept echoing in his head.

Baz rubbed his back comfortingly like he was trying to help Simon get it all out, awkwardly unsure of what else to do.

“He was my father... and I killed him,” Simon murmured.

 _That_ got Baz’s attention. “Snow, don’t you _dare_ think-”

“I killed him,” Simon repeated. “I killed him.” He was beginning to sound hysterical, his breathing becoming erratic like he was on the verge of a panic attack. “I _killed_ him.”

“Simon, no!” Baz shouted, scolding Simon in a way that only _he_ could. He grabbed Simon’s head and forced him to look into his eyes. Simon’s vision snapped back into focus. "Don’t you _ever_ blame yourself. You hear me? I was there, remember? You told him to stop hurting you. That’s _all_ you did. Both you and Bunce had no idea what that spell would do.” When he saw doubt in Simon’s eyes, he shook him to jerk him back to reality. “ _Listen_ to me, Simon. When someone is hurting you, it is nothing short of _bravery_ to ask them to stop. It wasn’t your fault that the only way for him to stop hurting you was his death. It _wasn’t your fault_!”

Simon felt lost and empty. He had no family. No more Watford. No more magic. The Mage took everything from him…

He wasn’t sad. He was angry.

“I _hate_ the Mage,” he spat suddenly, venom in his voice. “I _hate_ him… _so much_!” He cried out in frustration. “Sometimes I even…” He trailed off.

“Sometimes you what, Simon?" Baz whispered.

Simon thought of Ebb’s cold and lifeless body. He thought of his mother and how long it had taken for someone to realize that she was even dead. He took a deep breath.

"Sometimes I think I'm glad I killed him.”

And then suddenly, it felt like a pressure that had built up inside of him had finally burst. After all this time, he finally understood why all the talk of grief and sadness was bothering him. Yes, he felt sad and guilty, but that also wasn’t really what he was feeling at all.

Mostly, he felt angry at the Mage. He felt relieved that he was gone and glad that he wasn’t around to hurt him or anyone else anymore.

He’d finally figured it out. He’d finally _let it out_. Maybe now he could finally move on and forget about it like he wanted.

So why did he still have a nagging feeling that there was more to it than that?


	5. Searching/Settling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented! It really means the world to me! I worked on this fic for such a long time, and it is near and dear to my heart.
> 
> Only one more chapter left after this!

“Alright, they should be done in another ten minutes,” Simon said with a big grin, sliding the fairy cakes he’d just checked back into the oven to bake for a little bit longer.

“But I’m _hungry_ ,” Mordelia complained. “I want to eat them _now_.”

“Have you ever heard of patience, Mordelia?” Baz scoffed. “Or manners? _Honestly_ , a thank you wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re just jealous, because Simon is making _me_ fairy cakes and none for you,” she bragged.

“You must be daft if you think I’m not gonna swipe at least three,” Baz replied haughtily. “Besides, he’s _my_ boyfriend. He can make me fairy cakes any time I want. So who’s the _real_ winner here?”

Mordelia stuck out her tongue at her half-brother, and Baz rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“I still don’t hear a thank you,” he reminded her. She ignored him, but turned to Simon like it had been her idea all along.

“Thank you for making me fairy cakes, Simon,” she said. “Why are you so good? Did you go to baking school?”

“Uh, no, I didn’t,” Simon replied. He’d been going to the bakery next to the shop where he worked more and more lately, however.

“You should go to baking school,” Mordelia insisted. “I want to go to ‘ _Simon’s Bakery_ ’ someday.”

Simon smiled, liking the idea. “You want to learn how to make your own stuff? I can teach you.”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. “I want to make sour cherry scones!”

Simon laughed. “I have just the recipe.”

Baz watched his boyfriend and his little sister with a twinkle in his eye. It had been months since Simon’s freak out, and he seemed to be doing better. Whenever they spent the night together, Simon didn’t seem to have as many nightmares anymore. He could tell that Simon was still sad under the surface sometimes, but at least his subconscious didn’t seem to be so wracked with suppressed guilt.

The timer went off in the kitchen, and Mordelia sprang out of her chair and over to the stove.

“Don’t burn your hands!” Simon warned her.

Baz shook his head teasingly. “She’s such a pain in the neck,” he said. “I don’t know why I love her.”

Simon perked up at the word ‘love.’ It was a word that he’d been thinking about a lot lately. He shrugged in response, still having no idea how to answer.

\---

“Um… hello?” Simon stared at the man standing in his doorway in confusion, but the man just stared back at him, open-mouthed. He had no idea why the man was there or why he had rung his doorbell, but the man acted like _he_ was the one who was surprised to see Simon, not the other way around.

Simon squinted. _Did_ he know the guy? He looked very familiar…

The man didn’t even bother to say hello. “You look like her,” he whispered instead. “I… I didn’t expect you to look so much _like_ her.”

“Um… I’m sorry. Who are you?” Simon asked awkwardly.

The man suddenly looked embarrassed and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make this awkward. I just… came as soon as I heard. My name is Luke Salisbury.”

Simon thought back to the photo he had of Luke, his face chubby with youth. He looked so much older now. “You’re… Lucy’s brother,” he said slowly.

“Yes…” Luke said, nodding. “I’m your uncle.”

Both Ruth Salisbury _and_ Luke Salisbury were the type to just show up unannounced, it seemed.

However, Lady Salisbury had never referred to Simon as her grandson. It was strange to hear Luke use the word ‘uncle’ so readily.

“C-come in,” he said. “I’ll make you some tea.”

He busied himself with making the tea as Luke came inside and slid off his jacket. Luke looked around the living room curiously, noting the pictures on the wall.

“Is this your girlfriend?” He asked, pointing to a picture of Penny.

“Uh… no. That’s my best friend, current flatmate,” Simon called from the kitchen, not even needing to look at the picture to know who he was talking about.

Luke went down the line of photos until he settled on a picture of Simon with his arms wrapped around Baz. Simon was smiling widely at the camera, his hair tussled from the wind, but Baz was looking directly at Simon, pure adoration in his eyes.

“ _Oh_ , my bad! Is this your boyfriend, then?” Luke asked. “Sorry, I didn’t even _think_ that you’d be gay.”

“B-bisexual, actually,” Simon corrected, the word still sounding strange for him to say. “And uh, yeah. His name is Baz.” He turned bright red, glad that Luke couldn’t see him where he was standing. He wasn’t used to their relationship or his sexuality being accepted so casually.

“Nice! You both look so happy together! Congratulations, man.”

“… thank you.”

When the tea was finally done, they both sat across from each other at the kitchen table, steaming cups in hand.

“I’ve been travelling around the world a bit, getting away from it all,” he explained. “I’m sure you’ve probably heard that my relationship with the family is a little rocky. Mother never really got over the fact that I didn’t make it into Watford. But I _always_ loved my sister. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see her live on in you.”

Simon fidgeted.

“Sorry. It must be so weird for you,” Luke continued somberly. “You must have thought you were all alone, and now here you are, tossed right into the thick of the Salisbury family drama.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Simon assured him. “It’s not your fault or anything.”

“Yeah, but it’s not yours either. I just wanted to say I’m sorry we weren’t there for you when you were growing up.” When Simon didn’t reply, he chuckled. “There. I said it, and now we can move on.”

Looking a bit more cheerful, Luke reached into his bag and pulled out a box. “I brought you some of her things. I’m not sure if they’d be of any use to you, or if you’d even want them, but… I think she would have liked you to have them.”

He handed Simon the box. When Simon peered inside curiously, he saw that it was filled with trinkets and pictures. There was a small stuffed animal, a locket, and what appeared to be a small rock collection in a bottle. Even a wand was inside. His uncle eyed him when he picked the wand up to look at it.

“It was hers,” Luke explained. “Most people assumed that she had abandoned magic altogether and left it behind on purpose when she escaped to California. Even _I_ thought…” His voice shook. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“It’s okay,” Simon murmured. “No one knew. The Mage covered his tracks well.”

At the mention of the Mage, his uncle’s face turned dark. “Enough about him,” he grumbled. He motioned toward the wand in Simon’s hands. “I want you to have that. Use it in her memory.”

“… oh.” Simon’s heart sank. “I… I can’t use it. I don’t have magic anymore. I had to give it up to get rid of the Insidious Humdrum.”

Luke’s eyes widened in surprise. He might not have had much magic for himself, but he could sense it in others, and he could’ve sworn that he’d felt Lucy’s magic faintly coming off of Simon.

But after a moment of silence, he burst out laughing. “Just like me, huh? Well, let me tell you, from one Salisbury to another, that doesn’t make you any less of a mage or any less of a man. But do me a favor and keep it as a reminder at least. Of her.”

Simon smiled with relief. His heart constricted when he looked down at the wand in his hands. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Of course. I just want you to know that, no matter what, I am your _family_. All those things my mother might not approve of, they don’t matter to me. And if you want… I’d like to see you again.”

Simon blinked in surprise. Somehow, he’d never considered that this visit would be more than a one-time thing.

“I… I’d like that,” he said, fighting the happiness bubbling up inside of him.

\---

After yet another long day helping out at the shop _and_ the bakery, Simon let himself into Baz’s dorm room. He collapsed onto Baz’s bed in exaggerated exhaustion and crawled over to where Baz was sitting, not even saying hello before he claimed Baz’s lap as a pillow. He closed his eyes and smiled warmly as he made himself comfortable.

Baz set aside his book with a small smile of his own. He always enjoyed a good dramatic entrance. “Did you have a good day?” he asked, voice full of amusement.

Simon nodded, turning over so that he could look up at Baz. “The customers liked my eclairs,” he said, beaming proudly.

“Of _course_ they did,” Baz scoffed, as if anyone would dare to think otherwise.

They both grinned at each other cheekily, and Baz leaned down to press a quick sideways kiss to Simon’s lips, feeling Simon smile wider against him.

He loved how cheerful Simon had been lately. Between his time at the bakery and the few times that he’d spent getting to know his uncle, Simon seemed to be enjoying himself. Baz was glad that he was finally healing. Slowly, Simon was finally making his own life, and he was thriving. And Baz was determined to be there for him every step of the way.

He looked down at Simon lovingly and lazily twirled his fingers in his curly hair. Simon returned the loving gaze, taking a deep breath.

“Um, Baz…” he began slowly.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Never a good sign,” Baz teased. Simon smacked his arm.

“I want… I want to apply to culinary school. There are a few right here in London.” Simon searched Baz’s face for signs of disapproval. “Ever since your sister brought it up, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I really _love_ working at the bakery. I’m good at it too. I think it’s _actually_ what I want to do with my life.”

“And you want me to help you write the application?” Baz asked.

Simon grinned and sat up, swooping Baz into a hug.

“No,” he answered, his voice full of confidence. “I think this is something that I have to do for myself.”

Baz nodded, burying his face into the crook of Simon’s neck.

Simon had always just sat back and let things come to him. He’d always felt like everything had been out of his control: the Insidious Humdrum, the orders from the Mage, and even his own death. Nothing he’d done had ever felt like it had been his idea. He’d just sat back and let it all happen.

This time, he was going to work for his future, and he was going to do it for himself. This time, he was going to do what _he_ wanted.

\---

“Simon, I want to move out,” Penny said.

“Yeah, I know,” Simon replied. “I overheard you talking about it on Skype with Micah."

Penny looked a bit embarrassed. “Oops, sorry. I guess I should’ve told you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I get it. I mean, I’ll miss you of course, but I want you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Simon.”

“I’ll have to come visit you and Agatha one day. I’ll save up for a plane ticket,” Simon promised.

Penny frowned. “… Simon, what are you talking about?”

Simon frowned back, not sure why she was confused. “Micah lives kind of close to Agatha, right? I mean, I know that America is big and all, but…”

“I’m not moving to America, you idiot,” she laughed.

“Y-You… what?”

“When did you overhear me talking to him? Months ago?” she shook her head exasperatedly at him. “And you didn’t say a word about it. Of _course_.”

“So you’re moving… just not to America?” Simon asked slowly.

“Yes! I mean he and I talked about it at length, but in the end, he decided to come back here. He already has friends from Watford here, and he found a decent job about thirty minutes away. That’s what I was _going_ to tell you.”

Simon’s heart lifted. “You’re _staying_ then?”

“Yes, of course!” she exclaimed with a grin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, you ninny!”

Simon couldn’t help himself and dove to hug her.

“I’ve got news for you too,” he said. “I applied to a couple culinary schools. The bakery put in a good word for me and said I was their intern. I wrote my own applications. I did as much as I could. I think... I think I’m actually gonna get in.”

“Why am I not surprised that when you finally figure out what you want to do with your life, it’s about food?” she laughed.

Simon shrugged, grinning shyly.

“Looks like we’re both growing up and moving on, huh? Try not to miss me too much during the twenty-minute drive to my new apartment!”

\---

Simon woke up with one of Baz’s arms draped lazily over him and one of his own wings arched over both of them, blocking the sun from their eyes. He brought his wing in closer, not wanting to wake up just yet.

Baz pushed him off grumpily. “You’re burning hot,” he protested, rolling over.

“Says the guy who doesn’t produce any body heat.”

Baz cracked an eye open, expecting Simon to look just as grumpy, but Simon only chuckled at him affectionately. He hated how sometimes when he looked at Simon he reverted back to feeling like that scared little teenager with an impossible crush on his enemy. He hated how, even now, Simon could make his heart skip a beat from a single look.

Baz almost couldn’t remember the last time that he had woken up without Simon by his side. Sometimes he ended up staying in Penny and Simon’s apartment, and other times he and Simon stayed in his relatively noisy dorm, even though the bed wasn’t really meant for two.

The few times that either he or Simon were too busy to meet up, he missed having Simon next to him. They’d slept in the same dorm at Watford for almost six and a half years, so maybe he was just too used to them sharing a place together. It was probably good for them to have some space.

Nevertheless, he was already considering asking Simon to move in with him. They spent so much time together, it just made sense. He missed sharing a room and getting on each other’s nerves all the time. He missed arguing about mundane things like who didn’t clean the bathroom when they should’ve (always Simon) and who was spending too long getting ready in the mornings (always Baz).

He should’ve been grateful for some time apart (maybe it was good for them in the long run to discover who they were without each other around all the time), but Baz still couldn’t help wanting more.

Maybe Simon didn’t feel the same way. Maybe one year and a half in separate apartments wasn’t enough. Simon _had_ been rather adamant about finishing his applications by himself and having his own independence lately. He probably wasn’t ready.

Baz looked thoughtful and reached over and pushed back some of Simon’s brown curls, one of his favorite things to do. Simon was surprised by the sudden change in Baz’s mood, his usual morning grumpiness falling into pensive sadness.

Baz’s gaze flicked down to Simon’s lips. _Aleister Crowley_ , he loved him so much.

Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned over and kissed Simon. Simon responded eagerly, rolling on top.

Baz pulled Simon against him roughly and groaned. He sighed in bliss, grinding his hips upward and forgetting everything that he had been thinking about.

It could wait. Simon was worth it.

 


	6. Acceptance/Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay getting this chapter out. I wanted it to be great, since it's the big, final chapter, so I ended up almost completely rewriting it. Once again, always worried that I didn't get them quite in character so please let me know what you think!

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mrs. Grimm,” Simon said, presenting her with the cake he had made for her.

“You know you can call me Daphne, Simon,” she insisted, taking the cake, “and thank you for the lovely gift.”

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Baz said too. “I trust you’re doing well.”

“Business as usual, always busy raising these little nightmares.” She shrugged. “How are things with you?”

“Perfect grades, as usual.” Baz shrugged just as she had done, as if his perfection was no big deal. “But Simon here has just recently quit his job at the shop and is working at the bakery full time.” He grinned proudly.

“Oh, Simon. That’s wonderful! Any acceptance letters yet?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Simon admitted. “But if they’re coming, they should be in the post any day now. The bakery said that, if I get accepted somewhere, I can still work there around my class schedule. But even if I don’t-”

He was interrupted by a sudden, loud cry.

“Honey? Daphne, dear, come quick!”

All three of them looked at each other with questioning concern for a second before Daphne led them into the living room.

The living room was dimly lit, the greatest source of light coming from a crackling fire in the fireplace. Baz’s father sat in his favorite armchair, gazing into the flames distractedly, cell phone in hand.

“What’s going on, Malcolm?” Daphne asked, setting the cake down on the coffee table. She took her place in the chair next to her husband. Simon and Baz sat together on the couch.

“It’s finally happened,” Malcolm said, his normally-impassive voice filled with wonder. “Our home in Hampshire… the magic is _all_ back.”

“Aleister Crowley,” Baz swore. Daphne gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Simon’s heartbeat stopped for a second.

Baz’s childhood home, the one that Simon himself had completely ruined and sucked clean of magic, was _back to normal_.

“That’s wonderful news, dear!” Daphne said, reaching over to give her husband’s hand a squeeze.

None of the Grimms had never been the type to jump for joy, but seeing the looks of absolute relief on their faces, Simon couldn’t help but feel guilty. They wouldn’t have lost their home in the first place if it wasn’t for him. He didn’t say a word, wishing that he could disappear.

Of course, Baz, being way too observant for his own good, noticed Simon’s strange mood. “Simon, what’s wrong?” he asked, quietly. Despite his hushed voice, Daphne and Malcolm both overheard, and all three Grimms turned to look at Simon questioningly. He shrank under their gaze.

“It’s just…” Simon flushed. “I’m so sorry for what I put you all through...”

Baz looked pained. “It’s alright, Simon,” he said softly. “It’s all back to normal now. No harm done.”

Daphne nodded, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “Yes, dear,” she said gently. “That’s all behind us now.”

Simon nodded, and tried to smile, but it didn’t look very convincing.

Malcolm, however, seemed to have been perturbed by Simon’s apology. He frowned deeply at Simon, regarding him wordlessly. He was such a stoic, reserved man that Simon had no idea what he was thinking.

He didn’t dare ask.

“Is it true what they say?” Malcolm finally asked gruffly, breaking the silence. He stared Simon directly in the eyes. “You’re the Mage’s true heir? He used some sort of dark ritual to try to twist you into some prophesized Chosen One?”

Simon couldn’t remember if Baz’s father had _ever_ spoken to him directly. He nodded nervously, determined not to look away, as if that would show weakness. “Yes,” he murmured. “It’s true.”

Malcolm nodded thoughtfully, looking him up and down in silent consideration.

“Then I owe you an apology as well,” he said. “Maybe I was too quick to judge you.”

Baz’s dark eyebrows shot up in surprise, making his widow’s peak look even more severe.

“Particularly during war, it’s easy to blame children for the sins of their fathers,” Malcolm continued. He looked toward his son, eyes shining with everything he could never say aloud. “Merlin knows I’ve made my own mistakes.”

Baz frowned with disbelief.

Malcolm cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the way the conversation had turned. “Son, I want you to have your mother’s house,” he said in a business-like manner, changing the subject back to where it had started. “We’ve already gotten comfortable here, and it’s your birthright. It wouldn’t be right for us to move back in.”

“Thank you, father,” Baz said quietly. He wasn’t just thanking him for the house.

“We’ll leave it empty for you, for when you start a family of your own,” Malcolm said. His eyes flickered toward Simon. Then, without giving himself time to dwell on what he’d just said or giving anyone else time to respond with unnecessary emotion, he stood up. “I see we have cake. Let’s have a slice to celebrate.”

He grabbed the cake and was out the door in seconds. Daphne smiled and trailed along after him.

Simon frowned, not really sure what had just happened. “A family of your own? Is he back at it again trying to insist you marry a woman?”

Baz flashed him the faintest of smiles. “No, Simon. I think… I think he meant with _you_.”

\---

“This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for.”

Simon held his breath as he opened the letter. Whatever was inside, it told his future. Penny and Baz both stood next to him, watching hopefully, ready to support him no matter what.

After a moment’s pause, Simon let out his breath and unfolded the letter.

He stared at it in awe.

“I… I got in! They- they _accepted_ me!!”

Penny shouted for joy, and Baz beamed proudly. He swooped his boyfriend into his arms, and Penny wasn’t far behind.

Simon couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t believe it. He was going to be a baker, a _real_ baker.

This was something that he’d found for himself, something he loved to do, something he’d earned all on his own.

Basking in Penny and Baz’s warmth, something clicked into place for him. There were things in his past that he would never get over, but in that moment, he was truly happy.

\---

“I think I figured out what love is.”

Hours after Penny had left, and he and Baz were lying in bed, Simon finally spoke up.

Baz sat up, startled by Simon’s random confession. “Oh?” he asked, ignoring the sudden nervous pounding of his heart.

“I figured it out from meeting my family and from watching yours,” Simon explained, sitting up as well.

Baz calmed down a little. Oh. Simon had meant _family_ love.

“And?”

“Love is like… it’s something that’s always there, even if that person is annoying or horrible or you don’t understand them,” Simon said slowly, his mind swimming with thoughts of everyone he knew and everything he’d been through with them. “Even if you’re not related to them, you just… _care_ about them… just because they’re _them,_ y’know?”

Baz smirked a little, unimpressed with Simon’s discovery. “Yes, Snow. Love is unconditional. It’s an _unstoppable_ _force_. That’s such a cliché, I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out.”

“Oi, let me finish!” Simon grumbled, smirking back and shoving Baz’s arm.

But the grin fell from his face when he thought about what he was going to say next. His thoughts swam with memories of the Mage, and he wondered how he could possibly put those feelings into words. “Love is… it’s more complicated than all that. It’s not just _liking_ someone, it’s… y’know…? It’s _forgiving_ them, I guess.”

Baz still wasn’t quite sure what Simon was trying to say. “ _Yes_ , Simon. Love is kind. Love is patient,” he said teasingly, listing clichés.

“I will push you off this bed, I swear!” Simon pouted, getting a little frustrated. “That’s what I’ve been _trying_ to say. It’s not always good and kind. Sometimes it _sucks_. We’re supposed to forgive the people we love, but sometimes they do the unforgivable…” Simon blinked, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “What _the Mage_ did was _unforgivable_.”

All traces of teasing were gone from Baz’s expression now. Simon sighed.

“I hate the Mage,” he continued tiredly. Unlike last time, his voice held no real anger, only sadness. “I can’t forgive what he did, and I’m glad he’s gone. I’m glad he can’t hurt me or anyone else again… but I _loved_ him too. In a way, I still do. He was my father.”

Simon tried to compose himself, sniffing and wiping his eyes. Baz scooted closer and held out a hand to let Simon know he was there for him. Simon took it gratefully. Baz was always going to be there for him, just like he’d promised. Simon was sure of that.

“The Mage never loved me back, though. I get that. He was always trying to change me and control me, even before I was born. He _abandoned_ me…”

“He was an asshole,” Baz growled protectively. “Who couldn’t love _you_? You’re bloody amazing.”

Simon finally cracked a smile again. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Baz’s eyes widened. Did Simon just-?

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize the obvious, _as always_ ,” he said sheepishly. “Even back at Watford, when I thought you were an evil vampire always plotting against me, I think I still loved you even then, because… just because you’re _you_. I don’t know.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Anyway, that’s what I was trying to say before. About love. I figured it out.”

Baz shook his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he laughed. “All that time and _this_ is your big epiphany. _Honestly_ , what am I even supposed to do with you?”

Simon shrugged. “Kiss me?” Baz was more than happy to oblige. Despite all his teasing, he was glad that Simon was finally able to understand his own feelings in his own way. There was a lot of himself that he would just never be able to put into exact words, and Baz was fine with that.

“I love you so much,” he sighed against Simon’s lips. He was never going to let his Chosen One go.

“I love you too,” Simon breathed out, panting for breath after they finally broke apart. “But there’s something else I want to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Baz asked, barely able to tear his gaze from Simon’s lips, itching to kiss him again.

“Please move in with me.”

Baz’s expression softened into one that, only a few years ago, Simon himself would’ve insisted was impossible. So much had changed since then. So much had brought them to this point.

“Merlin, Simon,” Baz breathed out in awe, “I thought you’d never ask.”

-

Baz was out with Dev and Niall for the day, so Simon was home alone when he first noticed it. He dropped the tube of icing in his hands, feeling the air around him pulsing lowly. At first Simon thought that he must have been imagining things, but then it grew into a feeling that was too much for him to ignore. It felt both familiar and unfamiliar to him all at the same time.

Magic.

This magic was nothing like his old magic. His old magic had burned intensely. It had smelled of fire and brimstone, always in danger of bursting like a bomb and hurting everyone in its path.

Now, he felt magic emanating from his own body lazily, burning less. It was like a warm fire in the fireplace or cookies baking slowly in the oven.

He looked down at his hands in disbelief, his mouth hanging open.

Then, without warning, he scrambled into the bedroom he shared with Baz and yanked open his dresser drawer. There it was, almost calling to him: his mother’s wand.

His heart pounded in his chest. As soon as he took hold of it, the wand felt like an extension of himself. He had never felt so connected to his previous wand before. He had never felt so intensely that his own magic _belonged_ to him.

He took a deep breath.

“ **These aren’t the droids you’re looking for** ,” he whispered, pushing power into his voice. The magic did as he asked. It didn’t overflow or explode like it had done so many times before.

It listened.

Simon turned toward the mirror and watched in wonder as his wings disappeared from view. They were gone. He did it all on his own.

He felt like crying. He had never really been very good at magic, and truth be told he never really needed it or missed it much, but it felt _so good_ to know that he never had to rely on anyone else to spell his wings invisible ever again. He could take care of himself. He had control. He was finally free.

He couldn’t help feeling like he had the first time he had ever come to Watford, before he’d ever learned the truth about his magic or his family. He felt like he belonged, like magic was a part of him. He felt like he could do anything, be anyone. He saw the possibilities again.

But he didn’t need magic for that. Not anymore. Despite everything he’d ever been through and everything that had blocked his path, he was already exactly where he wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented! This fic really means a lot to me so I hope you like it! Now that it's finished, let me know what you think!


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